Deja Vu

Summary:
or Not on My Watch AU from chapter 3 of New Moon. Bella is taken to Florida with Renee. However, she is even more heart-broken without Jacob Black to cling to. She is sent to an asylum by a distraught Renee. Alice wasn't looking. She'd promised to leave Bella alone. But sometimes the visions come before you ask. She couldn't help it. She sees Bella being sent off and goes to convince Edward she really isn't better off without him. "Because I'm not going to let you do this to her! I know what it's like in there, Edward. Maybe I don't remember it, but... look. What more harm can you do?"

31. Epilogue

I grin and pin up a tuft of her hair. “That’s all. Just wanted to get your hair up.”

She smiles. “Thanks. I think. How do I look?”

“Incredible. Not to brag, but I did a good job.”

“With very little to work with,” she mutters, and I shake my head.

“False modesty, Isabella Cull-“

She reaches out an arm and smacks me. “Now, Alice. That’s bad luck!”

“Right. It is your wedding day, after all. I wouldn’t let Edward in here, so I guess I can’t go calling you his name.”

“Thanks.”

I observe my creation. She is perfect. I wouldn’t let her wear white. It’s the first time anyone’s listened to me on this.

Rosalie says only impure women don’t wear pure white at their weddings, and that was the end of that conversation. After all, it’s not my place to pry into that particular part of her past.

Esme and Carlisle were already married when I got here, but I saw the album- she looked so washed out. It’s a shame.

And Jasper and I were married very hurriedly. We didn’t have time for this ceremony.

But Bella gets the full benefit of my expertise, since she couldn’t care less one way or the other. She is wearing a cream dress, shot through with gold threads, and a veil covering her face.

It’s kind of a shame, considering all the trouble I went through to perfect said face.

She’s wearing a thin coat of blush. She grumbled about that a little- “I don’t have blood anymore, and I still have to embarrass myself by being red as a beet. Come on, Alice.”

But I talked her around. Her eyes are lined in a sparkling blue, her eyes light golden covered to bring out their rich and unusual color.

Her almost too-large lips are stained deep, deep red, and her brown hair is twisted up into a knot, elegantly curled in ringlets that took me four hours and a very powerful iron I had to special order from Japan.

The dress squeezes her tiny frame, but flares out into a wide skirt covered in tulle and gold braid that drags on the floor. She’s wearing flats- unfortunately- but at least they are delicate and quite pretty.

“You’re ready to go, Bells.”

“Thanks,” she says, and smiles. The ring twinkles on her finger.

She walks away from me, down along the wide expanse of pale fabric I laid out, past the blooming pale green roses and spurts of bright and fragrant freesia, Edward’s one request for this day.

I watch her go. No visions have disturbed me today, and I haven’t stopped to look. Yet I know, because of long experience or just a natural inclination towards these guesses, that all will be well. The days of darkness are behind us all.

I take my place at the top of the aisle, and, once again, watch the pieces fall into place, just as I always knew they would.